MIA
by FBI Bones
Summary: He promised her forever and she believed him. They told her he was dead. She told them they were wrong.
1. That’s Life

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or anything to do with it and the song is Who Knew by Pink and fits amazingly well.**

**Summary: He promised her forever and she believed him. They told her he was dead. She told them they were wrong.**

**A/N: I have no idea how long it is after some is missing in America they are declared officially dead but I do know that in England, at least according to the site I went on, it is three years.**

**I tried to research American law on the net but all I got was some very strange things that I didn't understand the only one I could read said something about married women in Kentucky and parachuting so I decided to go with the English one okay? My apologies for any inaccuracies, but the way it is I have that time stretch to fit in everything I want too.**

**IMPORTANT: Mack Winters, if you have read anything leading on from Flick of the Switch you will know who he is. For those who don't, he's a character of my own making, a FBI agent that is also a friend of Booth's. Personally I really like him and so I decided to use him in most of my other Bones fictions as well. You do NOT need to have read any of my other fanfictions to understand this.**

Chapter 1: That's Life.

Grief is the worst of all human emotions. Your soul is torn in two, your heart is shattered and the last thing you want to hear is the only thing anyone will say. The words I understand mean nothing and the words I'm sorry make you scream. Time won't make things better; it is only wasted seconds, which you count wondering when the torture will end. Tomorrow may be another day to them but to her it is merely another lifetime without him.

XxX

One date. That's all it had been. One date, one movie and dinner. A single night that she remembered every single thing about down to the time he had picked her up to the movie's title. He had promised her everything and she had believed him. Stupidly she had believed.

One thousand, one hundred and one days Agent Seeley Booth had taken Dr Temperance Brennan out on a date.

One thousand and ninety four days ago he had gone undercover.

One thousand and eighty nine days ago he was pronounced missing.

Seven days ago he had been declared officially dead.

Ten minutes ago, she knew he wasn't.

_You took my hand, _

_You showed me how, _

_You promised me you'd be around, _

_Ahuh that's right,_

_I took your words, _

_And I believed, _

_In everything you said to me, _

_Yeah huh that's right,_

Time passes and you move on, no that's wrong. You _forget_. They tell you moving on is part of healing and it just takes _time. _That's the reason they tell you it. Moving on is forgetting. You may not forget the person completely but you do forget; the image in your mind fades, the sound of their voice is lost to a memory you cannot conjure and the pain you felt when they left is _forgotten._

What they tell you is a lie.

Temperance hates lies. She hates mistruth, obfuscation. She likes fact, cold hard fact, two-plus-two-is-four-no-room-for-discussion kind of fact. She does not have time for miscalculations and misinterpretation, guesses and idle speculation. It leads you no where. That's why this angered her so.

Life is an incomprehensible, inescapable occurrence that you cannot possibly try to understand. It is a concept that _cannot_ be understood; the reason we're here, were we created merely to destroy ourselves and take the world down with us? Or do we have a higher meaning? It is all part of on thing and one thing only. Time.

She dealt with the harsh realities of time and of life and of death every single day of her life. Dreamt the dreams that no one else did and saw things that no one else should. Time passed by and all it took was one moment for her to realise she felt as dead as the corpse in front of her and she could be brought back to life by the touch of one man and one man only.

Every person around her, whom she saw every day should know precisely the meanings of life and of death and despite what anyone else said she refused to believe he was dead.

One can say that they believe a loved one is dead and therefore they grieve and cry and weep but until the body is presented, the cause of death given and the remains buried she herself refused to believe this time.

_If someone said three years from now,_

_You'd be long gone, _

_I'd stand up and punch them out,_

_Cause they're all wrong, _

_I knew better, _

_Cause you said forever, _

_And ever, _

_Who knew? _

She was sat in the dark of her bedroom, she refused to turn the light on, the slight ache that came as she forced herself to make out the silhouettes in the blacked out room was comforting in an odd way.

It was only… five AM she could go to work? No why go to work? He wouldn't be there. He would never be there, not now everyone had given up hope.

Hope.

Hope, time, life, death. To live and let live. To watch as people fell and rose around you. That was life. It wasn't velvet tears and satin lips; it wasn't roses and laughter, tears, pain. Money and expensive cars, all night parties, husbands, wives and children. One likes to believe it is but it's not. Life is to watch, to see and to feel. That's what life is.

_Remember when we were such fools, _

_And so convinced and just too cool, _

_Oh no, no, no,_

Some say life is precious. And to some, she supposed, it was. To those who took it because they could not stand to see their man with another woman, or that someone could have love and they could not or simply because they were addicted to the kick it gave. To others it is so worthless they take it themselves.

In some ways she preferred those who killed others; they could not help themselves, something in their brains, in their blood made them the way they were but those who killed themselves… suicide was cowardice. An inability to face a world that at the same time as kicking you whilst you were down could turn such an all encompassing darkness into a flickering light which only needed nurturing before it was ten times as powerful as the dark.

_I wish I could touch you again, _

_I wish I could still call you friend, _

_I'd give, anything,_

Booth was not dead. He was alive and the only problem with that is that she was the only one that believed it. She would be ignored once more, just like when the rumours had started when she had been referred to a psychologist at one point. She had turned them down less than gratefully and was not inclined to speak to Cullen again any time soon.

Pushing the sheets back she got out of bed and dressed, she was in no hurry and it gave her more time to think and to wonder and to plan.

5.10 AM.

Technically still too early to work but no, she could still go in. There was the Garratt case that the paperwork still needed to be filled out on and she really needed to sort through some of the papers on her desk…

The lab was pitched in darkness and she was loathe to turn the lights on the buzzing that would follow would just make it that much clearer that it was as silent as it was.

The others would be in later and they would not bat an eyelid as she was regularly in before dawn but the anticipation that had long since dissipated was back and she hated it. She wanted to ignore it because she knew the disappointment that would come with her in great waves was so much worse.

_When someone said count your blessings now, _

_'Fore they're long gone, _

_I guess I just didn't know how, _

_I was all wrong, _

_But they knew, better, _

_Still you said forever, _

_And ever, _

_Who Knew, _

The light from her lamp illuminated her desk and despite her normal preferences she did not turn the computer on, filling the documents out by hand. Why? The computer buzzed too.

Margaret and Phillip Garratt died from bullets to the head… 

Dreams are merely your subconscious' way of dealing with the issues you faced every day. It would act out scenarios or replay the most tragic events of your life again and again searching for a reason, a moment in which something could have been done because knowing something is your fault is easier to face, in a way, than guessing.

So maybe… maybe dreaming about him, about his voice and his face and the touch of his skin against hers when he had taken her hand. Maybe that was just what it had appeared as; a dream rather than what she, despite her usual beliefs, hoped it was.

Communication; fate's way of telling her he needed her help, that every single other person in this god forsaken city was wrong and he was alive.

…_small indentations in the bone of both Margaret and Phillip's forearms suggest that they both tried to defend themselves. The indentations spread to Phillip's forehead and neck, which works along side the idea that Margaret, was killed, or at the very least restrained first and he tried to get to her…_

But the dreams had stopped months ago. Months ago when she pushed them to the furthest back of her mind. Refusing to even acknowledge it when she woke drenched in sweat and screaming as in her minds eye she saw the decomposed and rotting remains of one of her best friends lying on a gurney in the Jeffersonian lab where she had seen every age of bone. From remains claiming to have been from the time of Jesus Christ right down to new born children but she had never, ever even wanted to consider the fact that maybe she would one day have to examine the remains of one of her friends. Her self created family.

_I'll keep you locked in my head, _

_Until we meet again, _

_Until we, until we meet again, _

_And I won't forget you my friend, _

_What happened? _

No one. Not even Cullen or any one who had been with Booth the day that he had gone missing knew what had happened. And that just did not make sense! How could a man, a FBI agent go missing like that, without a trace, without even trying to escape himself?

Don't do this to yourself, she thought, he has tried he just can't… or maybe… maybe he likes it where he is, maybe he wants to be there.

That was ridiculous. Sarcastic Seeley Booth may have been, be, _be, _but he was not cruel. Overprotective, yes, had a hero complex, most definitely but he would not make idle promises. Not to her, to the woman he had saved the life of more times than either of them cared to remember.

Signing the next few documents she jumped when the main light of her office was switched on and was even more surprised to see Mack stood there.

"Tempe" he sighed with the air of someone who was sympathetic but knew she despised anyone who gave it to her.

"What're you doing here so early?"

"I was going to ask you the same question" he said as she crossed to a filing cabinet on the other side of the room and put a file in there, when she didn't answer "couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?"

"What do you think?" she said, sarcastic for her but damn wasn't it obvious?

_If someone said three years from now, _

_You'd be long gone, _

_I'd stand up and punch them out, _

_Cause they're all wrong and, _

_That last kiss, I'll cherish, _

_Until we meet again, _

_And time makes it harder, _

_I wish I could remember, _

_But I keep, your memory, _

_You visit me in my sleep, _

_My darlin' who knew, _

Mack took a breath "he really did love you, you know"

"Then where is he?" she snapped without meaning to, the abandoned woman inside her rearing her head.

"I don't… I don't know but if he could be here you know he would"

"You don't have to say it Mack. I know okay? I know what you're thinking" she went back to her desk and say in front of it, gathering discarded post its and after reading them scrunching them up and throwing them in the waste paper basket at her feet.

"Oh yeah?" he sat in the chair opposite her casually, folding his hands on his stomach "what's that then?"

She raised an eyebrow "it doesn't matter Mack. I have work to do" wow, there's a desk under this lot…

"What happened?" he asked sincerely. Mack was the one person that hadn't acted nervous round her for the first few months after Booth had gone missing, who even as everyone else, including Angela, didn't give her a concerned look when no one else was looking.

_My darlin' my darlin' who knew, _

_My darlin' I miss you, _

_My darlin' who knew, _

Mack was the one that had told her that Cullen had people tailing her when she drove home, had people watching her as she walked round the grocery store all because they believe that she would do something rash. Cullen had never made such an impact on her life before and yet ever since Booth had gone missing he had made his presence known in the most irritating of ways.

"I saw him" she slowed down but did not stop, sorting her pens and pencils so they were the right way up "in a dream… I… it's stupid Mack but I just I _know_" she looked up after placing the stationary back in the pot.

He peered into her eyes "you think he's alive" he murmured.

She gave a half laugh, sounding almost insane "I always have Mack"

His next words were what shocked her and what made her freeze completely, staring at him through wide eyes "so have I"

_Who knew?_

**I am working on LLE at the moment so I should have an update on that as soon as I can, but in the mean time how badly have I screwed up this time?**


	2. Goddess

**A/N: Ya learn a little bit more about Mack in this one… oh and Zack? Three years yada yada he technically shouldn't be there but dammit Bones wouldn't be the same without him! **

**Disclaimer: I own Freddo the bug!**

Chapter 2: Goddess.

"What?" she shook her head, unsure she had heard him correctly.

"I don't think he's dead either Tempe" Mack repeated himself calmly "and I'm not humouring you"

There were a million and one questions buzzing round her head all at once and the only one that she could make head or tail of was "why?"

"Well I know for a fact that Booth wouldn't have gone down that easy-"

"No" Temperance shook her head "why didn't you say something?" shock replaced by anger in rapid succession "why did you let them all think that I was insane for months?"

"Because I thought _I _was crazy that's why Tempe. I even started seeing a psychiatrist. Quit after the first two sessions like. There's only so many times you can take the 'how was you family life when you were growing up Mack? Do you think it has had a great impact on the way you are today?' before you start to realise that you're not the crazy one." Mack said light heartedly, trying to ease the tension that had permeated the room upon his admission.

Temperance remained silence. Uncertain of how exactly to continue this; neither she nor Mack had thought that Booth was dead and yet it had taken him three years to tell her. Three lonely years where everyone she had ever trusted had disbelieved every word she had said were it not to do with a case they were working on. Where curious stares and judgmental looks had become a constant in her life without her really ever having any control over it.

One date with the man and suddenly she was the grieving partner.

Well she would _not _grieve not for a man she knew was alive and she would not say goodbye to him either.

"Listen, I've got to speak to Cullen in a few hours and I need to grab breakfast yet so I'll meet you and we'll have lunch okay?"

Temperance nodded and he left.

Mack had long since learnt that asking her to join him for breakfast was a futile attempt and was more than a little shocked to hear her agree to lunch. She was fiery without a doubt and driven. Scary too at times but she was an amazing young woman. Strong, independent, beautiful in a way that she did not flaunt it. He wouldn't touch her because even without the man there her body and her mind and everything about her screamed 'Booth's' not that it was that Booth owned her but that she was not good enough for him, Mack Winters.

She was not his type; Temperance Brennan meant a lot more than Mack was willing to put into a relationship it meant commitment and it honesty.

Honesty may be the best policy but there are some things better left unsaid, he thought as he crossed the street on foot. He remembered a time when he would have never have thought twice about saying everything and anything and as an agent that was the way he was in the work place but personally?

Not even Booth knew he'd watched his wife and daughter burn to death inside the family car back in Colorado. Bridget was only eight months old and had learnt to speak a little late; she'd said her first word that morning and the word 'daddy' would haunt his memory forever.

The officers from the local PD had restrained him as people from the fire department attempted to cut Mattie and Bridget out out. The screams that had fallen from their mouths as they pleaded and begged for their lives, as Mattie had shielded what would have been the only child she would have ever had due to a complication during Bridget's birth from the flames greedy attempts to devour her.

He cleared his throat and blinked the tears back. Temperance reminded him of Mattie that was why he loved the anthropologist as much as he did; loved as friend, nothing more and nothing less. He admired and respected her and that was that.

---------

It was nearly half past twelve by the time Temperance even thought about leaving her office "Hi sweetie" she sing-songed as she ventured in.

"Hello" she replied, distracted, placing the last of the 'unwanted' papers into the trashcan and getting to her feet to put away the last case file. Finally, for the first time in months she'd found her desk.

"Hey" Jack mock saluted her from over the other side of the lab where he and Zack were setting up another beetle racing course.

Temperance waved to him as she crossed to a gurney that held the remains of a seventeenth century sailor found in the foundations of an abandoned warehouse when the demolition crew had started to tear it down.

"You okay Zack?" she asked seeing the puzzled look on the young man's face as he peered under the table.

"Freddo's missing" he reported looking rather concerned.

"He's here" Jack said, rolling his eyes "and what kind of name is Freddo for a beetle? Why'd you even name the thing?"

"Why do _you _race them" Angela challenged him giving him a pointed look as Zack put Freddo back into his container.

"Ange"

"Yep" she hurried over to Temperance's side.

"These were supposed to be sent off yesterday to the museum" she gestured to the sailor's remains "why are they still here?"

"Goodman called" Jack hollered over "said that they can't be taken until late afternoon tomorrow"

Temperance sighed and seemed to figure something out in her head before heading back to her office.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Angela asked.

Temperance just looked at her.

"Sweetie" she sighed exasperatedly "you can't-"

Fury boiled inside her and she snapped "watch me" before she even thought about it. At the hurt look on the artist's face she amended "he's alive Ange. I know it. Mack knows it and I'll be damned if I'm just gonna forget about him"

"Nobody's forgetting Bren, God, how can we?" she was desperate and she knew it but she could not bring herself to care.

"Then tell me, do you still remember the sound of his voice? The way he smiles? The fact that he cannot stay still for more than two goddamned minutes and has to constantly be doing something with his hands?" she emphasised the words "goddamn" and was not at all calm about the way she spoke in anyway.

Angela was silent, awe struck at a side of Temperance she had never seen before, at least not that she remembered "we haven't forgotten him Brennan!" she exclaimed, almost stamping her foot to get herself listened to "how could we? He was such a fundamental part of everyone's lives. We come in here and we see pictures on your desk, all of you and of him and of us but in every single one he is looking at you like a man looks at a goddess and you think we can forget him? How in God's name can we forget a man who haunts us every minute of every day?"

Temperance hadn't realised, or had at least failed to notice quite how severely Booth's disappearance and ultimately his 'death' had affected everyone around her. This was angry Angela, angry, upset, desperate, earnest Angela. Not happy-go-lucky, jaunty, light-up-your-day-just-by-smiling Angela.

"Hey Tempe" Mack rapped on the open door of her office cheerily "oh is this a bad time?" he winced in apology "I can come back"

"It's fine" Temperance did not look at him because she was too busy staring in shocked amazement at the crying artist in front of her.

"I've lost one friend already Bren, I can't loose you too" she said as Temperance put on her coat and allowed Mack to steer her from the room, she paused only for a second before continuing.

"What was that about?" Mack queried as they climbed into his own personal car; a deep blue convertible.

"Nothing" Temperance whispered distractedly "It was nothing"

---------

"So I got Cullen to give me the file on Booth's disappearance" Mack tore the bread roll that came with his soup in two and popped a piece in his mouth.

"Bet that was hard work" she commented; she'd been hungry when she'd ordered the sandwich now she just felt nauseous.

He pulled the file out and placed it on the table in between them but when she reached for it he put his hand down on it "first tell me what's wrong" he coaxed.

She sighed "Angela"

"Oh" Mack answered, unsure of what else to say "um…"

"I didn't think it affected her like that I guess"

"Booth's disappearance?" he took a sip of water.

"Yeah. She just… I've never seen her so mad" pushing her plate away she looked up at Mack for the first time since they'd entered the small little café on the boulevard.

Mack gave her a gentle smile "I was on the same undercover ops as Booth was but I went home with broken leg the day before he went missing. I've never hated myself more" he too pushed his meal, although his was half finished, away.

"Why?"

"Couldn't help thinking that maybe… maybe if I'd been there it would have been different ya know?"

"Different how? Maybe you'd have gotten kidnapped instead of him?" she spat, how dare he say something like that? She missed Booth with all her heart but everyone would still go through hell if Mack went. Especially after all he had done for them in the year before...

"There's no one to miss me Tempe" he said hollowly.

"Don't say that!" her voice raised slightly and the couple at the next table gave her a startled look and she muttered an apology to them "don't"

Mack regarded her across their table "do you want to take a walk?" he suggested serenely and was grateful when she accepted.

---------

The park was crawling with small children and their parents. Screaming with laughter or when they fell and scraped their knees against the tarmac before being huddled into mommy's arms with soft cooing and promises of candy and ice cream after dinner.

"I haven't been sleeping well" Temperance explained "for weeks it's like… I don't know just something's there. In the apartment, in my clothes, my hair, my head and it's telling me something… something important but it's so intense I don't know what it is"

Mack nodded, that explained the emotional outbursts, even if short they were out of character even if the 'new' Dr. Brennan, the one that had emerged since, since when? Since they officially declared Booth as dead? No. Since the rumours started? Since she was referred to a counsellor? Before then…since Booth had uttered those deadly words the night before he left; _I love you._

"You could stay at my place" off her startled look "just to clear your head. I've got a spare room that Sammy only uses when his mom's out of town"

Sammy was Alexandria's thirteen-year-old son. Alexandria was a busy but gentle, woman, add loving mother to that list. Since her divorce with Robert and him being refused any custodial rights at all: the community regarded him as a drunk and Sammy didn't care if he never saw his father again. She had, had no where to leave her son when she had to go away for over night business trips.

Somewhere to crash where she wasn't alone, where the voices in her head might just quieten enough for her to sleep more than two hours that sounded nice "okay" she agreed, exhaustion clouding any decision she would have normally said the complete opposite too.

"Okay?" he repeated, surprised by her acceptance.

"Okay" she laughed.

---------

Sammy's bed was comfortable to say the least, and for some reason being in a strange place in a strange bed was just easier. She did not know why and she did not care, she was too tired.

As she slipped into slumber the voice of a man she knew too well intruded her thoughts but only a light tickle on her subconscious, she was passed the point where it registered in her waking brain.

"Bones… Bones… Bones…" 

**Before any of you start asking or even, god forbid, panic. There will be no Tempe/Mack in this fiction. They are just friends that's all, I'm a B/B fan through and through! Mack's just a really nice guy that's helping a friend and more about him and his relationships with different people may or may not come to light later on but for now… review!**


	3. He’ll be There

**Disclaimer: Crash and Burn belongs to Savage Garden many thanks to pmlmijbil for sending it to me.**

Chapter 3: He'll be There.

Despite the comfort of a new bed the novelty wore off some time in the early hours of the following morning. No dreams and no nightmares but purely she had slept enough not to be verging exhaustion and lying there, in that room, was just high lighting how powerless she felt.

Powerless to everything around her, she could not stop death, nor tears, nor pain. She wasn't a healer, a helper, or a doctor of the living. She diagnosed the dead, those past the help of everyone else, past being saved.

And so as Mack stumbled out of his own room at about seven o'clock, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, yawning, he started awake completely upon seeing her sat on the couch, a map spread over half the coffee table. The other half taken up by scrunched up bits of paper, pens and an empty coffee mug.

"Tempe?" he said, pausing half way through stretching and letting his arms fall to his sides in confusion.

She jumped and turned her head "Sorry" she mumbled "didn't hear you get up"

He shook his head, discarding her comment "what're you doing?" he shuffled over to her and rested his hands on the back of the couch. Leaning over to look at what she was doing he saw the map was only partially open and looked as if it had been moved around a fair bit trying to look at the rest of the map as well.

"It doesn't-"

"Yes it does" he spoke firmly, no longer looking half asleep, well aside from the sleep mussed hair he didn't.

_When you feel all alone,  
And the world has turned it's back on you,  
Give me a moment please,_

_To tame your wild, wild heart,  
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you,  
It's hard to find relieve and people can be so cold,  
When darkness is upon your door and,_

_You feel like you can't take anymore,_

"I keep thinking I know where he is so I got the map out to see if I could see it on the map. Needless to say my search has been unsuccessful" she sighed defeatedly, looking as tired as ever but feeling far from it. Mack didn't comment on it.

"Where'd you get the map from?" he asked after a moment, moving round the couch and picking up the empty mug "another coffee?"

"Please" she followed him to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he put the kettle on to boil and took another mug out and put a spoon full of instant coffee into each one.

"I've only got instant" he said, knowing she already knew that having already gotten herself one at … whatever the hell time it was when she got up.

She nodded her assent "I found it in Sammy's room" she said watching stoically as Mack poured the now boiled water into each mug and stirred them absently.

"Milk? Sugar?" he asked.

She shook her head. Black coffee. Strong black coffee was what she needed right now and was not at all shocked to see Mack leave his that way too as they headed back to the lounge.

_Let me be the one you call,  
If you jump I'll break your fall,  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night,  
If you need to fall apart,  
I can mend a broken heart,  
If you need to crash then crash and burn,  
You're not alone,_

"So how far have you got?" he stood surveying the map, coffee mug in hand.

"Nowhere" she said, standing next to him "every time I try and think about it it's like it slips that much further away and I can't remember anything"

"Maybe that's the problem" Mack suggested and off her look "that you're thinking about it"

"How am I supposed to know it if I _don't _think about it?" she frowned at him.

"You might just have to feel it" he answered tentatively. She did not trust her heart and he knew it all to well else why would she have waited as long as she had to succumb to Booth's flirting?

Feel it? Is that what she had to do? Let her heart do the talking not her head? Could she even do that?

"Here" he said, putting his mug on the mantelpiece and pushing the coffee table over closer to the couch. Taking the map he spread it out fully on the floor in front of the gas powered fireplace. Kneeling by it his eyes scanned their detailed image of their country with a critical gaze.

She slowly knelt by him, her own mug place by his moments after he'd knelt down himself.

He reached across her and took a permanent marker from the table before turning to her "close your eyes"

_When you feel all alone,  
And a loyal friend is hard to find,  
You're caught in a one way street,  
With the monsters in your head,  
When hopes and dreams are far away and,  
You feel like you can't face they day, _

Glancing at him sideways she took a breath and did so, going still and relaxing at the same time.

"Now listen to it" by it she knew he meant her heart but how did she listen to something that only beat? That did not have a voice or an means of communication "what's it saying?"

He seemed to trust this more than she herself did, in fact if she was truly honest she thought he might just be the crazy he'd said he wasn't but she was past caring right about now all that mattered was Booth and finding him, proving everyone else wrong.

Okay Tempe, she told herself, think… no don't think, feel, _feel, _what could she feel? The floor beneath her knees, the denim of her jeans beneath her hands that lay in her lap, her hair tickling her chin as it fell out of place.

Shaking it back she tried again, inside, look inside.

It was an odd sensation to concentrate on nothing outside her body. She could feel everything from her lungs moving up and down with every breath to the thrum of her blood in her veins, rushing to her head and her fingers and her toes, making them tingle and almost itch.

"Don't concentrate Tempe" Mack's voice rumbled through her barricade of silence "don't think. Just feel"

Feel. Just feel.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she pointed to something on the map "there" she whispered.

Mack circled the point, then looked at her again and she knew she had to continue.

Within moments they had five places circled.

"Let's see what we've got then" Mack shifted so he sat cross legged as Temperance got up and retrieved both coffees "thank you" he took the mug and sipped it before setting it down again.

Temperance went to speak but could not think of anything suitable to say and so closed her mouth again, waiting.

"We've got Madison" he scribbled it down onto a scrap of paper pulled of the coffee table "Richmond… Detroit… Memphis and…" he paused to catch up noting down the places "Charlotte"

She gave him a sceptical look "they are in five different states Mack" she said dubiously "I highly doubt anything I just pointed at is relevant"

He smirked at her "Yeah? Well at least two of those is accurate – the under cover ops mission was over in Madison and Ray Coop an agent that was also on the op? He retired to Richmond six months ago"

Her eyes widened marginally, maybe there was something to this 'listen to your heart' thing.

_Let me be the one you call,  
If you jump I'll break your fall,  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night,  
If you need to fall apart,  
I can mend a broken heart,  
If you need to crash then crash and burn,  
You're not alone,_

"Where have you been seeing Booth?" he asked suddenly "in your dreams?" he added on her odd look.

She frowned, trying to conjure the memory, having honestly no clue as to what Mack was doing. This wasn't fact. How could she… how could he, trust it?

"Tempe?" he said when she seemed to zone out.

"Oh… different places I guess, over the…" she did not have to say years if she did it made her hate herself for having waited so long to start searching for something, anything, not that she hadn't tried before but now they might actually be onto something…

"Where was the latest dream set?" he resisted sighing when she did not seem very trusting in it "Tempe, it's important"

"A cave somewhere… a mountain I think… you know Mack? Dreams are pretty hard to remember like that" she snapped, irritable "I've dreamt of him in hundreds of different places. He might not even still be in that damn cave if he ever was at all" she did not pick up on the convoluted undertone to a certain part of her rant and he did not call her on it.

Mack ignored her and went back to the map, muttering, tracing each point he'd circled "Charlotte's damn good to Tempe" he announced minutes later.

"What?" she stepped closer, leaning over his shoulder to see.

"Appalachian Mountains" he reported smugly "approximately one hundred miles north west of Charlotte" he could not help but smile at the expression on her face that looked distinctly like a goldfish out of water "three outta five babe"

-----------

"I said no, agent!" Cullen slapped the file down on his desk, glaring at Mack with fury and a distinct sense of betrayal in his eyes "you can't just go gallivanting off in search of a dead man!"

"In all due respect sir" Mack stepped forward "he isn't dead"

"Agent Booth died in action Winters. There is nothing left to suggest he might be alive except the word of a lovesick anthropologist and even that is patchy"

Mack fought the frown that wanted to come forth "I know he's alive sir and if you'll just-"

"If I'll just what? You're not going on a wild goose chase, I won't authorise it"

Mack knew when to stop. Cullen wasn't going to budge not in the slightest "very well sir" he muttered and went to leave.

_Because there has always been heartache and pain,  
And when it's over you'll breathe again,  
You'll breath again,  
_

Cullen sighed "Agent Winters" he said and Mack turned back "I know it's not easy to accept but he is gone"

Deciding to play along Mack answered "he was a good man sir"

"He was" Cullen did not continue and Mack took it as a que to leave and did so what he was not expecting was Temperance too be stood there, waiting for him.

"He said no" Mack told her and he watched her face fall, with it so did his heart.

"What do we do now?" she asked rhetorically, not expecting Mack to answer.

"We play our way" he grinned at her wide-eyed expression.

-----------

"Hurry up" Mack urged from his look out on her office door as she scrawled a note on a post it and stuck into the computer screen. Her jacket only thrown on, her hair still tucked under it "they'll be back any minute" he took her purse from her desk to help her.

"Done" she reported, following him from the office.

-----------

Ducking her head as they passed Angela when they were leaving the parking lot she felt a stab of guilt in her chest.

She shouldn't have left without telling them face to face, even if they would not, or could not understand they deserved that at least but she could not bring herself to do.

The outburst from Angela yesterday had been heart-wrenching enough but to watch Jack's façade slip and him care for just that second. For Zack's eyes to fill with sorrow and possibly even tears and for Angela to verbalise all their pain… there's only so many times you can see that and she'd seen her last.

_  
When you feel all alone,  
And the world has turned its back on you,  
Give me a moment please,  
To tame your wild, wild heart,_

"We're doing the right thing Tempe" Mack said as if he heard her thoughts "if it kills us both we're doing the right thing"

"You could loose your job" she said, ever practical.

"You could loose yours"

"I'm indispensable" she smirked slightly.

He smiled at her but their joy slid after a few seconds.

"I trust you" she said as they paused at a red light.

"Same to you" he answered "we will find him" he emphasised it if it where for as much his comfort as hers.

"Where are we headed?" she asked as they left Washington DC and took a road south.

"Richmond" he replied, glancing between the back seat and the road "the file back there, can you get it?"

She reached back and reached the file before setting it in her lap and looking to Mack.

"There's a slip of paper in there" he said, glancing sideways at her "has the name Ray Coop at the top and an address"

She rummaged through the numerous papers and photographs and post its.

"Got it?"

"Yeah, 1427 West Street" she read.

"That's it. Keep hold of it, I have real trouble remembering things like that" he said light-heartedly.

Let me be the one you call,  
If you jump I'll break your fall,  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night,  
If you need to fall apart,  
I can mend a broken heart,  
If you need to crash then crash and burn,  
You're not alone,

They sat in silence, both of their minds racing and adrenaline rushing through their veins even as they both tried to quash it down, the high it would send them on would be less than helpful at this moment in time. As the rain started they were both grateful they'd left the roof of the convertible up.


	4. Memoirs of an Agent

**I own Ray Coop, Bob Stewart, Lloyd Pearson… and you all know already that Mack is mine!**

Chapter 4: Memoirs of an Agent

The beat of the rain against the windows of the car was soothing in their integrity. The windscreen wipers moved slowly and predictably without fault. The dull squeak that came every time they passed back and forth broke through the proverbially and badly punned bubble that was created by the sound of the rain and the hum of cars as the engines ran even though they were stationary in the traffic they had hit.

"How much further?" she asked quietly, the sound of her own voice deafening inside the car's closed of interior.

Mack glanced at the dashboard "another couple of miles, this'll all disappear soon and then it should be pretty clear once we hit Richmond. The majority of this is heading for the west"

She nodded and looked back out the window surveying the dark clouds over head with an ominous glare equal to that of the edges of darkness that were beginning to creep in several hours earlier than usual due to the unpredicted storm.

_"…Don't know what took me so long" his voice was soft, smooth like the taste of strawberry-and-cream flavoured candies and holding a warmth that embraced you completely and you did not want it to let go even in the heat of an early summer night._

_She smiled at him, blushing just a little as he returned the smile, his eyes twinkling in a way she had noticed but was too modest to admit, was triggered merely by her presence and the rare acceptance of him and his behaviour._

_"Love you" he whispered before his lips met hers, slowly and carefully, his tongue had glided along her lips asking for an entrance she gladly gave. His arms locked around her waist and she leant into him, giving up control completely to a man she knew would know the true value of this precious gift…_

"Tempe?" Mack glanced sideways, the traffic had cleared they were once more racing towards Richmond "you okay?"

She shifted in her seat, regretting immediately as it allowed all the muscles that had been in such a compromising position for as long as they had to protest loudly "I'm fine" she answered, giving him a wry smile.

"Ya musta dozed of for a while there" he looked back at the road "dream seemed to be kinda upsetting you so I woke you up"

She nodded but didn't elaborate "it was nothing"

"Booth?" he asked, turning right.

She inclined her head "You could say that" she mumbled.

"I dream about him sometimes," Mack admitted, staring straight ahead.

"I highly doubt it was along the same lines as the one I just had" she replied without thinking causing both of them to blush.

"I … uh… the mission. I have these dreams… telling me different ways to save him, to have made everything different" he said after a moment "rarely work though. Usually end up turning into nightmares"

Temperance nodded. There were moments passed words whispered and events that happened that night that weren't for anyone to know. She wanted something secret. Something to herself even if in the months after he was reported missing she went through one of the hardest things she had ever had too and she'd done it on her own. Walked the corridors, solved dozens of cases and watched as murderers were locked behind bars. She would never tell a soul what she'd gone through.

They could guess.

They could assume but they would never _know.

* * *

_

It was late when they arrived in Richmond, street lamps bathed the roads in a soft orange glow as they pulled in to the parking lot of a hotel on the outskirts of town. Not wanting to stop but knowing they had to they both climbed out of the car picked up their bags and headed inside.

"Can I help you?" the desk clerk asked, putting his book down cover-up on the counter and smiling at them cheerily.

"Have you got two rooms, for tonight only?" Mack asked, Temperance at his elbow.

He checked the computer "sorry sir" the clerk gave him an apologetic look "we have only the one up in the east wing"

Mack opened his mouth to tell him thanks-but-no-thanks only Temperance spoke faster "we'll take it"

The clerk nodded and went to get the key.

"We need somewhere to stay" Temperance said "and it's not like either of us is going to be sleeping much tonight. You can take the bed and I'll either take the couch or I'll sleep in the car tomorrow"

Mack was once more cut off but this time because he was given the key to room 14b and led to an elevator by his partner.

* * *

The room was small but comfortable. A Queen size bed in the centre of the back wall, a television in a corner by a window and a stiff-backed arm chair by a fire that had obviously not been lit in a very long time.

"No couch" Mack observed.

"No couch" she repeated "there's a chair though" she put her bag down by the window calmly and turned to look at him.

"Don't be ridiculous Tempe" he admonished "you take the bed"

"Mack, the chair is just fine really-"

"I have another idea" he placed his bag at the floor next to the bed.

"I'm open to suggestions" she raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to have a better idea.

"We could just share the bed"

She froze "what?"

"We're both perfectly mature adults. There's only one bed and we both need sleep. It makes sense that we share it considering it's so damn big" he explained, trying not to think about the completely insane look she was giving him "it's either that or _I_ take the chair" he coaxed.

"That's a stupid idea" she said, then she sighed "we share the bed"

* * *

The clouds from the previous day had cleared and the street that Ray Coop now lived in was in pristine condition, your atypical, happy-go-lucky neighbourhood.

Smiling neighbours in every other garden pruning shrubs or potting flowerbeds, barking dogs playing with joyous children. It was vaguely unnerving.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice called as Mack and Tempe stood on the doorstep. He peered through the peephole in the door and then opened it far enough for the security chain to lock in place.

"It's Mack, Ray, and Dr. Brennan. Agent Booth's partner"

Ray closed the door and here were the chinking sounds of the chain being pulled loose before it reopened and they were ushered inside.

"Too damn happy out there" Ray grumbled as he led them to the lounge. The walls lined with photographs of a man, presumably a younger Ray, in military uniform, proudly displaying a number of medals and pins that adorned his jacket.

"How's Olivia?" Mack asked as Ray went through to the kitchen, leaving the both of them in the lounge, the overpowering scent of incense made their eyes sting even though none was currently burning.

"Not a damn clue these days. Left me 'bout eleven months ago, old cow got sick of me should expect" he called back, pulling mugs out a cupboard and depositing them on a tray.

"Who's Olivia?" Temperance whispered.

"His wife. She was the one that encouraged him to retire after he got shot in the knees by some perp trying to rob a high security bank. Poor guy wasn't even working at the time" equally quiet.

Temperance nodded as Ray came through, his arms laden with a tray with three mugs of coffee, a bowl of sugar and a jug of milk on it.

"An' I heard what you were tellin' her Mack" Ray reclined in his chair "both me knee caps got shattered to bits love, can barely move no more"

Temperance smiled at him wryly, trying not to cough at the mixture of sandalwood and coffee that polluted the air.

Ray sipped his coffee, cursing under his breath as it scalded his tongue "so you're the gal Booth worked with" he eyed Temperance with a comically critical eye "pretty lass" he muttered.

Temperance frowned a little bit.

"What brings you to Virginia?" he looked back to Mack expectantly.

"The undercover ops mission in Madison" Mack replied, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his coffee and setting the teaspoon back on the tray.

Ray's eyes narrowed "what about it?"

"Booth" Temperance interrupted "he's alive"

"Course he is" Ray got to his feet and headed towards a bookshelf.

"What?" Temperance breathed.

"Man like Booth? He wouldn't go down like that. I'll be damned if I know what happened though" he retrieved an ivy-coloured folder from behind a book dedicated to World War Two or more specifically Pearl Harbor and then went and took his seat again.

"Can you remember what happened at all on that operation?" Temperance could feel herself shaking, for reasons she did not know, it was more jittery than shaking she supposed.

"I don't have amnesia love" he smiled at her tenderly, then more seriously "I remember it as clear as if were yesterday"

_"… Fifth on main, room 17a on the third floor" Bob Stewart reported, sliding into a chair at the bar._

_Ray licked his lips and rolled his eyes "tomorrow, too dark out now"_

_Booth ignored the conversation going on in front of him, the monotonous sound of their voices dull and boring as he fiddled with a bar mat. The haze of smoke that filled the bar stinging his eyes but he barely noticed. _

_"Thinkin' 'bout Brennan?" Lloyd Pearson teased, nudging Booth's elbow as it rested on the table._

_Booth didn't respond._

_"You ever met that woman?" Bob asked equally mocking "gorgeous as hell but she doesn't half have a mouth on her. Never stops yapping 'bout her science crap" He grinned as Lloyd laughed "I never got a clue what she's talking about half the time"_

_"Cut it out" Mack felt like he was admonishing a pair of disobedient children, as if to proof his comparison accurate they continued._

_"Prefer 'em silent aye Bob?"_

_"Prefer to know what they're talking about"_

_Another stream of rude snickers erupted from the pair as they both ordered another pint each._

_"Intelligence is obviously far beyond your understanding" Ray mused downing half his beer "probably never met a woman with a brain bigger than a pea or tits smaller than hot air balloons"_

_"Everyone has a type" Bob defended their antics vehemently. _

_"Shame yours is the kind you tip" Mack ducked behind his bottle as both men glowered at him._

"Ray" Mack, said "Ray!"

"Sorry" he shook his head and this time nearly emptied his mug "get caught up in 'em flashbacks" he grinned at Temperance "we was meant to infiltrate in the morning but… needless to say it went wrong"

_"…Hit the deck!" Mack yelled and Lloyd and Bob immediately through themselves onto the floor. Ray and Booth already searching other rooms, he drew his gun as the bullets flew through the door like jet-propelled bugs._

_Mack dropped to his knees firing blind and rolled to the right, shielded by a stack of crates as every so often he peered out and fired again. The sound of the machine gun fire deafening and his ears roared a persistent ringing in his ears._

_"What the fuck is going on?" Bob slammed himself into the crates next to Mack._

_"Where's Pearson?" he ducked down again._

_"There" he pointed to another set of boxes where the agent was crouched, the wooden crates proofing a temporary defence against enemy fire._

_"Some asshole must have sold us out" Bob said as Lloyd managed to get over to them._

_Mack didn't even dignify the remark with a response._

_The guns stopped being fired after a few minutes and Mack got to his feet, glancing warily around, his gun poised. He gestured for Lloyd and Bob to follow. Then froze in place._

_"What is it?" Lloyd asked, pausing also._

_"Get out of here!" Mack yelled, already pushing the two men from the room "go!"_

_The debris that littered the room, from both damaged the crates and the walls and ceiling that had been damaged in the firefight was hard to negotiate as they attempted to escape._

_"Go! Go!" Mack yelled as they made their way free from the room just in time for the grenade to explode,_

"Bastards knew what we were doing" Ray said drumming the folder on his lap in frustration "they'd gone by the time Booth and I got to Mack, Pearson and Lloyd"

_"Mack!" a voice yelled although it didn't seem all that loud at all to him, he couldn't feel his legs, his head pounded and he could barely breath "come on!"_

_He looked around and two blurry figures came into view, Pearson was leaning over him, as white as a sheet and Stewart was leaning against a wall at his feet, cradling his arm to his chest._

_"What happened?" Booth ran forward, kneeling next to his friend as Ray checked for anyone still in the vicinity, he could feel Booth's warm fingers on his neck as they checked for a pulse he knew was there because it roared in his ears. Ten times more deafening than being shot at._

_Oh God it hurts to breathe, I can't feel my legs… Oh God my legs… why can't I breath? Shit… shit this hurts… what happened? I don't remember… want to sleep… no! Don't sleep! My shoulder… what the hell is wrong with my shoulder…_

_"They came out of nowhere" Bob said, crawling forward, his arm still curled protectively to his chest "they set a grenade off, we got out…"_

_"He needs a hospital" Lloyd said seriously, smoke and grime sticking his blonde hair to his forehead, a cut on his left temple caused blood to trickle near his eye and he swiped at it with the cuff of his shirt._

"We thought you were gonna die mate" Ray looked at Mack "damn fine thing you did back there"

"I did what anyone would have done"

"I'd have left the arrogant little buggers to get themselves out"

Temperance just listened to the conversation, memories being shared on a telepathic level that she had no hope of understanding. Her own memories of seeing Mack in that hospital bed had been haunting enough.

_"I remember thinking" Mack said as she sat by his bed "at the time 'what I wouldn't give to feel my legs'" he chuckled, his chest heaving slightly with difficulty "now I'm singing my praises to whoever it was that created morphine" he grinned._

_She was silent. He looked so fragile in that bed, so delicate. So human. If it felt like this when it was Mack what would she have done if it were Booth? But Booth was missing now wasn't he? Had been for nearly two weeks now._

_"Hey" he took her hand with his, squeezing it gently so as not to aggravate the IV he had taped to the back of his "I'm fine"_

_She sniffed and smiled at him "I know"_

_"Booth's fine"_

_"They don't know where he is" she whispered "but I know he's fine"_

_He smiled and squeezed her hand again "that he is" he lay back against the pillows again "Doc says I'm good to go as soon as some of these burns clear up. Damn secondary infections"_

_Temperance looked at him, her eyes skimming from his feet to his head. His entire right leg lay in cast from hip to toe, having broken it in multiple places. The left leg faired little better, third degree burns, forty percent of which were infected, his torso taped tightly together to support the four broken ribs and his left arm was in a sling to aid the healing of the dislocated shoulder and fractured collarbone he had suffered._

_She remembered him calling the lab, saying he'd just gotten a broken leg and a little bit bruised so there was no need for he to rush to see him. She'd nearly collapsed upon seeing him the first time. The bruises that mottled every visible area of skin that was not covered by bandages or hospital scrubs were purple and swollen then. Now they were yellowing and he yet he still insisted that he was fine. That he would heal._

He'd insisted upon being transferred back to DC as soon as he had regained consciousness from the drugs pumped into him first en route.

"What happened after I left Ray?"

"You read the mission reports" he snapped a little more viciously than intended but he did not apologise.

"Ray those reports were edited we all know that. No one put in what they felt what they saw. I'll be damned if half the things Pearson and Stewart got up to got put in their reports"

"I don't know what happened to Booth" Ray repeated.

"Ray" Temperance said softly, pleading not only with her voice but her eyes as well, every fibre of her being begging for just one more scrap of evidence.

"After you got transferred" Ray began "we had to track them down again…"

**Good? Bad? Weird? Down right awful? Long chapter I know! Lol. I really got into those flashbacks! XD**


	5. Mr Jones

_Author's Notes: It's been…six months? Since the last update, really sorry guys, been busy… okay not in the 'don't have time to write kind of way' because I've been writing SG1 fictions obsessively and working on my original writing 'To the Bone' but I'm back, at least for now, so no worries?_

Chapter 5: Mr. Jones

Ray's story had done little to given them more information, his face bore the lines of a man old beyond his time and his eyes were older than that. Every agent she had met had an odd expression that danced like a flame in their eyes; it was enticing, powerful and terrifying at the same time.

Cullen's were sharp and caught every detail without fault or pause and although they seemed cold, passion was a strong undercurrent in his usually stoic and disapproving expressions. Despite the impression he gave things got to him, more than most noticed and certainly more than she would have thought he would have been able to deal with.

The human body was an amazing communicator, constantly speaking without even having to open its mouth, no sound had to be made and yet to some one like her it was screaming every moment of every day.

Mack was restless, his fingers were twitching against his coffee mug with an alarming regularity, and every so often he would lick his lips contemplatively. His shoulders hunched over suggested towards a natural instinct he had to protect himself constantly whereas his back was relaxed and not 'ramrod' straight as one would assume it would be, which indicated he was at ease in his surroundings.

Ray was slouched in his chair, even when he had been speaking his jaw had been set and he had swallowed tensely every few minutes, a methodical necessity to it as opposed to a need to rid his mouth of saliva. He rotated his wrist slowly, clicking the joint every time it had been through three cycles.

It really had been as the authorities had suggested – she laughed mentally at that, she and Mack _were _'the authorities' – it had quite literally been a case of him not showing for breakfast, Ray had gone to find out where 'the lazy git' – as he'd put it – had gotten to and Booth had simply not been there.

The kidnap hadn't been clean, far from it; the only thing left intact had been the door, every piece of furniture, of clothing had been shredded to splinters. Three bullet holes in the wall had sent plaster dust to the floor; the fact they had been from Booth's gun had been a small mercy. The blood, however, had sent spirals of sickness into everyone's stomachs.

The blood had not been splattered and the pattern of the smears on the carpet said that the victim – Booth - had been dragged across the floor, most likely unconscious, the trail had moved from the floor to the wall in random smudges until the door of the rented motel room where it seemed they had gotten into a, on later investigation, blue Mazda, and taken off.

No direct conclusion could be drawn as to where, with what, and how badly Booth had been injured. Speculation said that a sharp blade, such as a kitchen knife, had been plunged into the right had side of the sternum; major organs had most likely remained undamaged as the blood loss wasn't adequate enough to suggest otherwise. Despite her disapproval of jumping to conclusions the theory had been a vague comfort when her normally calm and collected mind turned the facts it had been given into torturous nightmares that plagued every sleeping second like a vicious disease.

"'m sorry I couldn't 'elp more," Ray said after what seemed like hours of silence.

"Don't be," Mack smiled gently "you did what you could,"

"Wa'nt enough," he stated gruffly, picking at the edge of the tatty folder, he handed it to Mack as if handing it over was a decision he was loathe to make.

Mack put his mug down and took the folder with raised eyebrow, opening it and tipping the contents onto the coffee table.

"Afta the mission was finished ah took some time off and 'eaded back up ta Madison," he pulled a face that looked remarkably like he was attempting to consume his own tongue "ah couldn't do much like, was only one o' me and God know 'ow many ah them there was,"

Temperance smiled tightly, unsure of what else to do but she'd spent enough time with Booth in situations remotely similar to have an idea of what was 'expected'.

Mack nodded and spread some of the photos out, studying them clinically.

Ray sniffed and took a deep breath before releasing it "that there," he tapped the third image "that's Gareth Jones. Been lock'd up on and off since he were a lad, not that he's much more than a boy now." He wrinkled his nose "last time he was arrested he worked for a company called New CoDahn Limited."

Mack's eyebrows raised and Temperance frowned, seeing her confusion through the corner of his eye Mack explained "the men we were after were part of a group responsible for smuggling stolen goods in and out of the country, murder on several accounts, drug dealing… the works. They managed to establish several minor 'footholds' as it were in a few of states, we managed to narrow down headquarters to three possible areas, Madison, Memphis and somewhere in South Carolina. Our sources indicated Madison to be the biggest of the three so we took that one," he gave a wry smile "we were right,"

Mack paused and when neither Ray nor Brennan continued he sighed "CoDahn was one of several names they used to cover their backs,"

Ray nodded, satisfied Mack had contributed enough "Jones had nothin' to do with the mission we were working, or so it had seemed at the time. See when I went diggin' stuff up I thought I was being followed."

"Jones." Mack intoned.

"Yup," Ray seemed oddly proud of the fact "tailed him back to Memphis; sneaky bastard though' he was following me," he grinned broadly.

"What's he doing?" Temperance picked up another photo of Jones and studied it.

"Jones made several transactions from a private account in Texas under the alias of Jamie Thomson, he was supposedly staying with a 'friend' but made daily trips to this building." He retrieved an image from near the bottom of the pile of a rather decrepit looking warehouse, a crooked 'To Let' sign was hammered into the gravel of the parking lot "every two or three days he'd take a bag of some sort with him,"

"Wasn't this investigated?" Mack sounded livid.

Mack laughed "o' course it was Mack!" he exclaimed "sneaky little shits 'ad left by the time I managed to get the Bureau to investigate it properly, completely wip'd the place."

"And this folder…" Temperance trailed off.

"Replicas o' the originals love, gave all tha real 'uns to the Bureau," his voice soft, then he turned back to Mack and his tone took on a once more cool air "after that," he sipped his coffee and shurgged "there was nothin' left to follow."

* * *

Dusk was falling and the sun was disappearing behind the even rows of houses opposite Ray's. There was neither a cloud in sight nor a breeze to lick at their skin as they got back in the car. 

"What now?" Temperance asked as Mack started the engine and flicked on the heating.

Mack glanced at her "we head for Memphis."

_Author's Notes: I don't know how much sense that made and I know it was kind of short but it was written quite literally off a whim at… well I finished at 01.32AM and considering I started it at just gone 01AM I don't think it was horrendous, if I spot errors I will correct them later - sorry for it being so short._

_Review if you have nice things to say :P – that sounds really bad :S lol._


End file.
